There is a lie from hell that claims to be true Christianity. Though it is known by many names, I’ll call it the health and wealth gospel. It contradicts the Bible as a whole, but is supported by prooftexting, and sounds quite convincing. That should be no surprise — Satan usually sounds quite convincing (see Genesis 3).
One of the problems with the health and wealth gospel is that it denies the sovereignty of God. Its proponents teach that humans are in charge, and God is bound to respond and act according to our faith and words. He must do what we say in faith. Why people do not see that this teaching turns God into a puppet or genie or divine butler, rather than bows to him as sovereign Lord, is beyond me.
Another problem with this belief system is that it heaps guilt on any person who is sick or not wealthy. People are told the only reason they are not healthy or wealthy is because of their lack of faith. They are told that God allows what we allow, and we are to blame for allowing this sickness or circumstance. Who does the Bible say is the accuser of believers? Satan (see Revelation 12:10). Those proclaiming a health and wealth gospel are Satan’s minions. Paul speaks of them in Galatians 1:6-9.
Paul tells us in Galatians that he was sick: “Surely you remember that I was sick when I first brought you the Good News.” (Galatians 4:13) He talks about some of his other coworkers’ illnesses (more about that later). They experienced sickness even though they had great faith. God never rebukes any of them for being sick. They never rebuke, or heap guilt on, each other for being sick. Simply put, God tells us illness and infirmities are part of life in this world.
Joni Erickson Tada became a quadriplegic through a diving accident. In the past, she has been deceived and condemned by those teaching the health and wealth gospel, but is now resting in the truth of God’s word, free from condemnation and guilt. She tells of reading John 5 and wanting to be healed like the man at the pool of Bethesda. Finally, there came a day when she too encountered Jesus at the pool of Bethesda.
Just last year my husband Ken and I had a chance to visit Jerusalem, and we chose to do the old city on a hot, dry, dusty day, midday, when we knew no tour buses would be around and we’d have the place pretty much to ourselves. And Ken was pushing me in my wheelchair down the cobblestone streets and we arrived at the sheepgate, made a lefthand turn, and there, a couple of hundred yards down the path, it opened up into this grand old ruins of — my goodness, it’s the pool of Bethesda. Ken, I said, would you look at this. And although you could not make out the colonnades because the ruins were crumbling and tumbling, and there’s no water in the pool yet, the place was empty, and as I leaned against the guardrail with my elbow, Ken hopped the guardrail to jog down to the bottom of the pool to see if there was any water in one of the cisterns.
And while he was gone and the wind was warm and dry and the sun was hot, tears began cascading down my cheeks as I looked over this pool of Bethesda and I said, “Oh, Lord Jesus, how good of You to wait 30 years, almost as many years as that man laid on his straw mat; You waited this long to bring me to this place, a place where I imagined myself so many years ago, and I’m so grateful that You did not pass me by, because a ‘no’ answer to a request for healing has meant purged sin from my life, and it strengthened my commitment to you, Lord Jesus. It has forced me to depend on Your grace. It has bound me with other believers. It has produced discernment. It has disciplined my mind. It has taught me to spend my time wisely. It has given me a hope of heaven. Lord Jesus, You were so good in not healing me.”
And I know there are many people listening now who wish to be free of their circumstances — they are looking for an escape hatch, or maybe a quick fix for their affliction, and they think they might find it in a divorce or they are pondering maybe with the idea of suicide, such as one caller mentioned earlier. Or they’re thinking that they’ll find it in pills or medication, or a healing service. But the 32 years that I’ve been in this wheelchair and being at the Pool of Bethesda last year, has taught me that suffering is that good sheepdog, always snapping at my heals and driving me into the arms of the Shepherd. For that, I am so grateful. I am so grateful. (click here to read what else she said in this interview)
